Rebel Yell
by AEnimus
Summary: The Sons of Korhal Revolution, seen through the eyes of Ivan Petrov, a soldier under James Raynor's command. Chapter 3 ready. Review the hell out of it.
1. Wasteland

**SECTION 0 – A SHORT REVIEW OF TERRAN ARMED FORCES **(author note: this is basically just to tell you that most soldiers aren't equipped with armored suits, and how many soldiers are in a starcraft unit. If you get bored, feel free to skip ahead to SECTION ONE. I would put this in a separate chapter, but this might count as "author's notes". This section is very long, however.)

Part One – Infantry 

The most common and most important unit in the Confederate Forces is the infantry unit. It is the only unit truly capable of claiming and holding territory. There are four branches of infantry in the Confederate Armed Forces: The Colonial Infantry (Supports the outlying colonies and ensures order, also defends colonists from pirate/militia attacks. Has recently come under suspicion for harboring anti-Confederate sympathies), The Colonial Marines (engages in hit-and-run attacks against enemies threatening the outlying colonies), The Confederate Army (puts down major rebellions, guards Confederate space), and The Confederate Guard (guards the throne-world, Tarsonis). Every soldier in any of these branches is equipped with: a rifle (the current standard being the C-14 "Impaler" Gauss Rifle), a sidearm (a semi-automatic pistol of a caliber no less than .45), three hand grenades, communications gear, and a Battle Dress Uniform (BDU), which is comprised of an arachno-steel shirt and trousers bearing unit and rank insignia. Soldiers belonging to units that are posted in space will be assigned a pressurized combat suit (the current models in service are the CMC-300 and CMC-400 Powered Combat Suits), for combat in airless environments. In addition, members of ground units assigned in hostile locales (high/low temperature, high radioactivity, poisonous atmosphere) will be assigned combat suits.

Organizational Breakdown:

Squad – 12-16 soldiers (Squads are an unofficial subsection of a platoon. Not all platoons divide by squad)

Platoon - (approx. 60 riflemen)

Company – Four platoons (approx. 250 riflemen, equal to 1 unit in Starcraft)

Battalion – Six companies (approx. 2,000 personnel / 1,500 riflemen)

Regiment – Four battalions (approx. 10,000 personnel / 8,000 riflemen)

Squadron – Variable number of Regiments (approx. 500,000 personnel / 450,000 riflemen - Most common) 

Note: Lt. Cdr. Gregory Reikson's Omega Squadron has around 1,000,000 soldiers assigned to it, while Colonel Jackson Hauler's Nova Squadron contains just 5000 personnel. Also, squadrons and divisions often contain air and artillery units, rather than just infantry units.

**Part Two – Mobile Artillery (colloquially known as 'Firebat' units)**

Firebat soldiers are all equipped with the CMC-660 Heavy Combat Suit, which is equipped with a flame-thrower and an RPG launcher. The Firebat unit is very important during base assaults, because of the RPG's ability to punch through armored positions, and the devastating effect of the flame-thrower on enemy morale. Most battalions are assigned one company of mobile artillery (one firebat company contains 100 soldiers).  
**Part Three – Ranger Units**

Each member of a ranger company is assigned the standard equipment of a Confederate Marine, in addition to one Vulture Hover Bike. The Ranger is highly trained and well-respected. Rangers perform the role of reconnaissance and guerrilla warfare. Rangers move in companies of fifty.

Part Four – Strike Armor 

Each pilot of a strike armor unit is assigned a Goliath Armored Walker. These machines are versatile, powerful, and resilient. The strategic unit of the Strike Armor branch is the Goliath Squad. One squad contains twenty Goliaths, in addition to fifty support personnel.

Part Five – Armor 

The backbone of the armor unit is the Arclite Siege Tank. Tanks are essential in their role of supporting infantry, which they do by taking out armored positions, and acting as moving shields from enemy bullets in combat. The strategic unit of the armor unit is the Tank Squad. One squad contains ten tanks, each of which have a crew of five (one commander, one pilot, two gunners, one technician), and fifty support personnel.

**Part Six – Army Aviators**

The most important piece of machinery in the Army Aviation branch is the Dropship. The strategic unit of the Aviators is the squadron. One squadron can carry eight companies of infantry, four squads of strike armor, or two squads of armor. A squadron consists of 24 dropships and fighter support. A single dropship can carry a payload of 84 soldiers, 3 Goliaths and support crew, or one tank and support crew. Every squadron also contains 4-6 Wraiths to act as escort for the dropships, and air support for the dropship payload.  
**Part Seven – Fighter Corp**

The newly formed Fighter Corp is already a highly decorated and important branch of the Confederate Armed Forces. Fighters play an important role in ground invasions, where they escort dropships and destroy armored ground targets before they can threaten ground troops. They are also vicious in space battles, destroying enemy gunships and battlecruisers with surgical strikes against engines and bridges. The strategic unit of the Fighter Corp is the squadron, which contains 12 fighters and a support crew of 36.

**Part Eight – Navy**

The Navy is an important part of the Confederate Forces, because it allows the expansion of the Confederacy by transporting colonists and guarding the merchant-marine, and because it can identify and destroy enemy threats from space. The most basic unit of the Navy is the Battle Group. The battle group contains one Behemoth-class Battlecruiser, and several smaller vessels (tankers, cruisers, destroyers, and gunboats).

**Part Nine – Miscellaneous Units**

There are several other branches in the Confederate Armed Forces. The most well-known is the Salvage and Construction Branch. Equipped with T-280 Space Construction Vehicles, they salvage space hulks (destroyed ships), build defenses for ground forces, and repair space vessels. The basic unit of the S/C Branch is the work crew, consisting of eight SCVs and support crew. Another branch is the Frontier Exploration Branch. Equipped with Explorer Science Vessels, this branch studies space anomalies and locates new worlds for colonies. One final branch is the Black Operations Branch. Not open to enlistees, it consists almost entirely of Ghosts, who work as one-man armies.

(author's note: Damn! Writing that section took forever. You damn well better have read the whole thing. It was a pain in the ass, having to refer to the manual every five seconds. On the other hand, military science is fascinating as hell. I turned the SCVs into Sea-Bees and Navy Divers. Rockin'.)

* * *

**SECTION 1 – DEAD-END POST**

Private Ivan Petrov woke up to the sound of reveille. He wiped sweat off his face and arms, cursing the Mar Sara heat. The sergeant barked at him to hurry up. Ivan stripped off his clothes and took a fast, cold shower. He checked himself out in the mirror. He was of average height and below-average weight (but he was muscular, in a wiry way), he had prominent Slavic features and spoke with a Russian accent.

Afterwards, he put on his Battle Dress Uniform, which consisted of a vest and pants, both made of spider-steel, with steel plates riveted to them. He grabbed his gear: ammunition, sidearm, grenades and com-gear, which was basically a hands-free cell phone and radio.

After he had tucked all of this into his vest or belt, he picked up his most important possession: his rifle. It used magnetic rails to fire ferrous rounds at many times the speed of sound. Quiet as a car door closing, could hit a mouse from two hundred meters, able to kill someone through a concrete wall.

"Petrov, get on the roof," drawled the sergeant, Nicolai Koslov.

"Yeah, Ivan, get on the roof!" Scott Langenbrunner looked gleeful at Ivan's suffering.

"Lang, go with him." Scott choked with dismay.

Ivan slung his rifle and climbed the roof access ladder. He winced at the light and heat of the morning sun.

"Damn, it's hot," Scott whined as he climbed onto the roof. The joined the squad's master sniper, Corporal Sergei Gionta, in gazing at the landscape. They were surrounded by a small town of squat metal buildings. Beyond the town, there was nothing but miles of bleak wastelands. "What a surprise, it's no different from yesterday!" Langenbrunner started to bitch about the reasons he joined the Colonial Infantry, and why this post sucked, when the sniper cut him off.

"Shut up," said the sniper, "And look at this." He pointed to a spot in the badlands and looked at Ivan expectantly. "You see that?"

Ivan looked through a pair of binoculars, but didn't see anything.

"Huh. It's gone. Thought I saw some weird… thing, but its gone."

"It was never there, my friend. You've been out here too long. Go inside, get some water." Ivan handed the sniper his pack and Sergei went down the ladder. The privates leaned against the retaining walls of the roof, squinting at the desert, chatting.

"So… have you heard the rumors?" Scott asked with a conspiratorial grin.

"No. What rumors?"

"Well, they say there are monsters in the desert. Big 'uns."

"And who is 'they', some FNG who saw his first sandspider?"

"Nah, a comm.-tech told me. Said a long range patrol went missing. Around four or five trucks, a whole company, just… gone. No trace until last week, when a jeep careened into this guy's base. Crashed into the barracks, punched right through the wall. The engine was blown, but he still had his foot jammed down on the accelerator. He started screaming about monsters in the desert, called 'em Zorg or Zarg, something like that. Screamin' about how they killed his entire squad. Bastard was so crazy they shot him to put him out of everyone's misery."

"So, do you believe it?"

"About the monsters? Hell no. He probably just got heat stroke, was delirious. His unit probably broke down and died of dehydration. It happens."

They subsided into silence, watching the desert for any anomalies. The unit radio crackled to life.

"Desert Company 46, do you read? Hello?"

Ivan yelled down the hatch "Sergeant! Sarge! Someone's on the radio!" He heard Koslov growl and clamber up the ladder. A second later, he pushed himself through the hatch and snatched the radio.

"Delta-Charlie-4-6 reads you."

"We have orders from Confed High Command."

"What do they want?"

"You are to load up your civilian population and send them to Wasteland Base Echo."

"What?"

"They didn't give an explanation, but it's probably about the Protoss attack."

"Dammit. How are we supposed to convince these people to leave?"

"That's your job, not mine."

"Thanks." The sergeant put down the receiver and looked at his soldiers. "Any suggestions?"

"We could sound an air raid. Organize it from the shelters. Anyone who doesn't feel like leaving, fuck 'em. We just take their supplies and let them die in the desert," said Petrov.

"I feel ideologically opposed to this." Scott commented.

"No one gives a damn, do it. And inform Captain Akita of the situation." Sergeant Koslov jumped back down the ladder and began ordering the squad.

* * *

**SECTION 2- AFTER THE EVACUATION/CONVOY**

Some hours later, Ivan, Koslov, Scott, and the rest of the squad were sitting in the back of an APC. Behind them was a long line of personnel transports. It had taken several hours because of the independent nature of the colonists. Several fights had broken out, and a couple of Ivan's squad-mates, Private Ivan Malakhov and Corporal Mike Tanner were nursing busted lips and black eyes.

Out of a population of nearly five thousand settlers, they'd been forced to leave over two hundred behind.

Petrov looked over his squad. They had several greens: Privates Roadkill Rommel, Mikhaillovich Molotov, Jethro Lincoln, and Zachary Taylor. There were also veterans Sgt. Nicolai Koslov, Corporals Mike Tanner and Sergei Gionta, and Privates (First Class) Scott Langenbrunner, and Ivans Malakhov and Petrov. Malakhov had been entrusted with the Squad Automatic Weapon. Everyone else was a rifleman.

"How much longer to the base?" Petrov called up to the driver.

"Not long! We just have to get past this rock formation and-" The entire APC shook. Ivan felt the shock, right in his tailbone.

"Damn! What the hell was that?" a soldier shouted.

"I don't know! Something big, though!" the driver shouted back. "Someone should check it out!"

"Rommel, Tanner, check it out." Koslov ordered.

"Yes, sergeant." The two soldiers ducked out the APC hatch.

"Holy hell! You ran over something big!" the private shouted in.

"Yeah. Looks a lot like a bug. Crunchy on the outside, chewy within. Doesn't look like a sandspider or scorpion," reported Tanner. He and Roadkill ducked into the hatch. "There isn't much to look at though. The APC chewed it up pretty good."

"Alright. Strap in. All clear, driver!"

"Understood!" The APC hummed into motion. "We're past the rocks, we just have a few kilometers to go."

"Roger."

* * *

**SECTION 3- WASTELAND BASE ECHO/MOBILISATION **

Several uneventful hours later, the convoy arrived at Wasteland Base Echo. It had previously been a forlorn cluster of buildings: an outdated and underpowered command center that served as a headquarters, an armory, and a barracks. Now, it had exploded in size. There were temporary settlements everywhere within five kilometers of the headquarters, and people were milling about everywhere. The APC pulled to a stop at a checkpoint, which was basically a sandbag wall next to the road. A squad of soldiers and a field radio were behind the wall.

A soldier walked up to the driver window. The others covered the APC with rocket launchers and recoilless rifles.

"Identification?"

"Desert Company 46. Colonists from Settlement 46."

"Wait here." The soldier walked away and gave the word to his CO. The officer started talking on the field radio. A second later, he motioned to the soldiers to wave the convoy through.

"Why is security so tight?" Ivan asked Koslov.

"How the hell should I know?" Koslov replied. "By the way, security is not tight. You should try going to Tarsonis."

"Damn! Looks like everybody within 500 kilometers was sent here!" Jethro exclaimed.

"They probably were, Jet." Malakhov said.

"Driver! Do we have orders?" Koslov yelled.

"Yeah! You gotta report to the Company 46 barracks! Captain Akita will brief you there!"

"Hurry it up!"

When they arrived at the barracks, Akita wasn't there yet, so the soldiers, lacking orders, collapsed on the bunks nearest to them. Fifteen minutes later, Akita walked in and waited at attention.

"Attention!" barked Lieutenant Hacker, the platoon leader. There was a lot of commotion as the soldiers jumped of the bunks, snapped to attention, and saluted.

Akita returned the salute. "At ease. Confederate High Command ordered a planet-wide evacuation this morning, in light of the events at Chau Sara. Our job is to ensure the safety of the civilian population. Failing that, we're to hightail it back to friendly space."

"Sir?" a private spoke up.

"Yes, Private Duncan?"

"What do you mean by 'failing that'? I mean, if the Protoss attack, we're _all _dead, right?"

Akita considered that for a moment. "That's true, son. But, word has it, there is a _second_ alien invader. People have been calling them the Zerg." In a civilian crowd, there would have been a lot of commotion. But everyone here was a professional. They waited for the Captain to continue. "The rumors are true, there are monsters in the desert. However, these are monsters we can fight. So, we will fight them. Understood?" The company assented. "Good. Get some rest, soldiers, we have work to do, tomorrow."

"Lights out in fifteen, soldiers!" Everyone rushed to use the head or take care of personal hygiene.

* * *

**SECTION 4- THE NEXT DAY **

Ivan woke up to the sound of reveille. He wiped sweat off his face and arms, cursing the Mar Sara heat. The sergeant barked at him to hurry up. Ivan stripped off his clothes and took a fast, cold shower. He checked himself out in the mirror. He realised he was growing a beard. Everyone else was taking there time this morning, so he figured there was time to shave. He and Scott used the same mirror and shaving cream.

"So, rumor-monger, what do you have for me today?" Ivan asked, taking his time.

"Anything you desire, my good friend." Scott replied. He was obviously in high spirits.

"Perhaps you could tell me why we are waiting here?"

"Ah… I heard that we are waiting for ten infantry companies to gather here, to properly protect our pitiable passengers."

"That was a good one. And after we get these companies?"

"We travel four thousand clicks to the Mar Sara starport."

"Impressive. And when do we go?"

"Soon. We already have nine companies. The other is on its way."

A soldier in the main barracks yelled "Attention!" Ivan and Scott rushed to finish shaving, cutting themselves, and rushed to stand at attention in the main room. Completely forgetting to dress. The rest of the company struggled to keep straight faces, many of them failing miserably (Ivan and Scott were comforted by the fact that those privates would later catch hell from their sergeants).

Akita himself looked amused. "Well, anything to say for yourselves, privates?"

"A Ghost took our uniforms, sir!" Ivan said.

"Those bastards are sneaky! Sir!" Scott added, going along with him.

"But… uh, we have spares! In the other room!"

"Well, I suggest you get them on."

A minute later, the two were once again standing at attention, this time with clothes.

"Our unit is being mobilized. Desert Company 43 has bogged down on the road here. We're going to escort some trucks of supplies and mechanics to get them moving again. Understood? Good. Arm up and get to the garages."

* * *

**SECTION 5- ACTION **

"This has got to be the most boring planet ever." Commented Private Roadkill, looking out the APC window. "I mean, even the freaking alien invasion is boring."

"What kind of assignment is this, anyways?" Private Jet said. "Our unit slogan should be 'Killing is our business, and we're in a recession.'" The greens cracked up. The veterans smiled, amused only by their naivete.

"Can it, soldiers," barked Sergeant Nicolai. "We're getting something on the radio."

"This is Platoon Alpha static under attack static need support static, transmission ends"

"Driver, step on it! Squad, check your weapons, and get ready."

As the APC accelerated, the squad checked their weapons and chambered rounds.

"Hey, Roadkill!" Ivan shouted.

"Yeah?" Roadkill said, a little uncertain.

"You're about to learn why boring is good!"

"Contact!" The driver yelled. The APC bucked. "Scheisse, the transmission's shot! You gotta go on foot! Ready, Koslov?"

"Ready! Open the hatch!"

The hatch dropped and fell on a monster, trapping it. The squad rushed out, killing the thing with their weight. Ivan started at the blood for a moment, then glanced up. His mouth went dry.

A trio of the monsters rushed towards the squad, foaming out the mouth. Ivan fired a burst, and the head of the lead monster exploded, spraying blood and innards. The other two were unfazed.

"Kill them!" shouted Koslov. Concentrated fire brought the other two down.

"Damn it, these things are everywhere!" At least a dozen more of the monsters were rushing them.

"Squad, fire at will!" The terrain was largely flat, except for a tall hill. Koslov decided the hill would be very defensible and yelled "Up the hill, soldiers! Hurry it up!"

Fireteam Alpha (Malakhov, Tanner, Taylor, and Roadkill) laid down suppressing fire as the others humped up the hill. Ivan sweated as he maneuvered, and he could almost feel one of those blades sticking into his leg, and dragging him down to a waiting, ravenous mouth. Ivan reached the top of the hill and had to lie on his back, squeeze his eyes shut and shiver for a few moments.

"Fireteam Alpha, get moving. Cover them!" Ivan rolled onto his stomach and looked through the iron sights of his rifle. Fireteam Alpha was sprinting up the hill, half-dragging each other. The monsters were right behind them, a huge wave of them. Ivan switched to semi-automatic, and started firing. His shots lanced down the hill and penetrated the heads of many of the monsters, but there was always more. Someone threw a grenade, and Ivan opened his mouth and dug his face into the dirt, but the shock still jarred him. He looked up and a hole had formed in the enemy wave. He saw Fireteam Alpha scrabbling to reach the top of the hill, and helped them up.

After the squad made it to the (relatively) safe position on the hill, Ivan looked at the APC, and felt his stomach drop. "Sergeant! We forgot about the driver!"

"Scheisse! Driver," Koslov shouted over the radio. "can you hear me?"

"Yes, sir! I'm still trying to get this thing running again!"

"Never mind that! Get up the hill!"

The driver laughed. "Not on these legs, Sarge."

"Then close the hatch! Hurry it up!" He punctuated this by killing a Zerg that was rushing towards the open hatch.

"Good point." The hatch closed. Still more of the monsters attacked the APC, hammering into its sides. "It's getting pretty intense in here."

Mike Tanner, who was covering the other side of the hill, looked over while changing out the barrel of Malakhov's machinegun. "What's going on?"

"Driver's in trouble."

The monsters finally figured out that the APC window was weak. They hammered into several times before crashing through. Koslov whispered "Damn," as he fired on the Zerg.

Ivan heard and saw the flashes of several gunshots as the monsters rushed in through the broken window. Then the sound of the driver screaming came over the radio.

"Ivan, drop a grenade in there."

Ivan pulled the trigger on his grenade launcher, and a grenade sailed in through the window. The grenade hit the fuel tank and made the whole APC go up in a huge explosion. Bits of metal and Zerg flew everywhere. One of his squadmates screamed: Mikhaillovich had a three-foot long claw sticking through his leg.

"Let's kill these bastards!"

* * *

**SECTION 6- AFTERMATH**

The squad sat or crouched next to the flaming wreckage of the APC. Mikhaillovich's leg was bandaged. Around them, there were huge pile of dead Zerglings, as the unit had taken to calling them. Koslov was on the radio.

"Alright, sir. Thanks." Koslov switched off the radio. "Well, almost all of Alpha Platoon was lost. Four survivors. Beta Platoon lost two squads completely, twenty-six casualties. Gamma Platoon was relatively unscathed, three casualties. As for us, Squad One was obliterated, Squad Two lost four soldiers, Squad Four lost seven soldiers, and we lost no one but our driver. In total, out of a company of two hundred, we lost half our soldiers. Also, Company 43 was nearly totally destroyed, with six survivors, who holed up in an APC and waited it out. Enemy losses are estimated to be in the thousands."

He waited.

"We have new orders. Our company is going to Wasteland Base Bravo, which recently put out a distress call. An APC is on its way. We're going to link up with Desert Companies 48 and 49, and with a Ranger Company under the command of one James Raynor. He's something of a legend in these parts, apparently." There was a long silence.

"Hey!" shouted Scott. "Hey, Roadkill!"

"Yeah?"

"Killing is our business, and the market's lookin' good!"

Roadkill smiled weakly, then staggered up. He got to the edge of their makeshift camp, before dropping to his knees and heaving. The other soldiers wrinkled their noses at the sound of Roadkill's vomit, before going over to make sure he was alright.

"I'm alright, sorry about that…" He still looked awful. Ivan ruffled the young private's hair and stared at the broken landscape and the burning piles of dead. He had the feeling that he would see many more of them. He caught sight of an APC.

"Sergeant, our ride is here."

The squad helped up Mikhaillovich and Roadkill, and got underway to the next battlefield.

**END OF THE FIRST CHAPTER.

* * *

**

So… tell me what I did wrong, and tell me what you liked. How did you enjoy the first skirmish of the First Great War? (What is the war between the Terrans and Zerg called in the original Starcraft, anyways?) Peace.

p.s., this is what part of the alphabet would look like if q and r were taken out. (Mitch Hedberg was awesome)


	2. Backwater Station

**SECTION 0: SQUAD ROSTER**

The squad roster of Desert Company 46, Platoon Delta, Squad Three (DC46-Delta-3) is as follows:

Fireteam Alpha:

Sergeant Nicolai Koslov

Pfc. Ivan Malakhov

Private Jethro Lincoln

Private Mikhaillovich Zhukov

Fireteam Beta:

Corporal Sergei Gionta

Pfc. Ivan Petrov

Pfc. Scott Langenbrunner

Private Roadkill Rommel

Fireteam Gamma:

Corporal Mike Tanner

Pfc. Lena Kosovich

Private Zachary Taylor

Private Colin White

Note: Privates Lena and Colin weren't mentioned before because the were added to the squad after there own squad (Desert Company 46, Platoon Delta, Squad One) was decimated in their first skirmish with the Zerg.

* * *

**SECTION 1: LINKING UP**

The APC's chassis shook and rattled around the squad. They were going high speed over rough terrain. Everyone was busy, cleaning their weapons and reloading their spent clips. It was a difficult operation, considering each clip held a hundred rounds, and the APC was bucking like a bronco. The soldiers cursed quietly whenever a bullet or rifle was knocked out of their hand.

Ivan looked around. This APC was mostly the same as their last one, with some differences. Next to the electronics and equipment that separated the driver section and the cargo area, was a platform right under a hatch on the APC ceiling. Ivan realised it was for a roof gunner. This APC was also unarmed, but unlike the old APC, it didn't come out of the factory that way. It originally had two machineguns mounted on the side, and a large, 40-mm cannon on the roof. Zerglings had ripped the guns off in a skirmish, however, leaving the APC vulnerable.

"Hey, driver, what's our ETA?" called Koslov.

The driver swiveled around in his seat. "Hang on, I'm getting a transmission." He turned back to the radio. "Repeat that! Something's wrong with the radio, I can barely hear you!"

"Meet static at 10 miles static of meeting point. static Zerg everywhere, hurry it up!"

"What direction?"

"North!"

"Yes, sir!"

"ETA?" Koslov repeated.

"Twelve minutes!"

"Get ready, soldiers. Mikhail, you good to fight?"

"Yes, sir."

Ivan looked out the right-side window and saw another APC racing across the wasteland. It was in bad shape, and the hull was pocked with claw marks and bullet holes. It was painted with Desert Company 46 insignia.

"Hey, Sergeant! There's another APC out here. Looks like one of ours."

"Driver, what tags are you getting from that APC?"

"Which one? There's at least twelve."

"All of 'em."

"Looks like a mixed unit. Soldiers from Company 46, the survivors of 43, and some from the 41st."

"Really?" Koslov drawled.

"Looks like the whole thing is led by Captain. There's probably a little more than a company of soldiers, a lot of people are riding on top of the APC's."

"Well, I guess we aren't fighting this battle alone!" Ivan shouted, and some of the soldiers cheered.

An alarm blared in the APC cockpit. The driver got on the radio. "Drivers, I don't see anything but dirt! What the hell is going on out there!"

A crackling voice came over the radio. "We got a big swarm of those little ones, the, uh, the Zerglings. They're hiding there movements by kicking up a big ol' dust storm."

"Orders?" The driver was getting nervous.

"We're gonna punch right through 'em! Does your cruiser have any guns?"

"No, they got ripped off in a skirmish."

The APC's were getting awfully close to the dust cloud.

"Well, then," the voice on the radio said, "you just get behind Specialist Harrell, that would be me, and watch out."

"60 meters to the cloud!" Koslov yelled, now in the APC's copilot seat. There was a series of loud thumping noises outside.

"Damn, those APC's are firing!" Scott yelled, awed by the power of the 40-mm guns.

"About to hit Zerg lines…" the driver called. The rumbling and bucking of the APC became more pronounced. "Contact!" Loud clanging noises came from outside.

"What the hell is that!" Ivan shouted.

"Zerglings are hittin' us! The little dumbasses are trying to bite through our armor!"

Ivan peered out the left-side window. The other APC's were firing their machineguns, mowing down Zerglings, but more kept coming. Zerglings who survived the gunfire and wheels of the APCs ran with them, easily matching the 45 mph of the APCs. One Zergling noticed the window Ivan was looking through, and apparently thought it was an open whole. It jumped, flattened its body, and rammed the window. Cracks formed in the thick glass, but it held, and the Zerg dropped away, dazed. Ivan laughed a little, but more Zerglings tried the same tactic, and the window cracked and almost gave.

"Damn! Scott, cover this window!"

Private Lincoln yelled "They're trying to break this one, too."

Koslov called back: "Fireteam Beta, cover the left window. Fireteam Gamma, cover the other one. Malakhov, get on the roof with your SAW and cover the rear. Mikhail, help him." The soldiers scrambled into action, like a well-tuned machine. Malakhov was standing on the gunner's platform, firing bursts at targets of opportunity. Fireteams Beta and Gamma covered the windows, everyone making sure they had a clean shot. Finally, an alien broke through the left-side window, headfirst, it's limbs tucked in under it. It was dead before it hit the floor, because of Gionta's precision firing. More of them tried to scrabble in, however. Seconds after the first Zerg broke in, the right-side window burst inwards, spraying Fireteam Gamma with glass.

For a time, they held all of the enemy at bay. However, the magazine's of most of the soldiers ran dry at the same time. As they struggled to reload, hampered by pressure from the enemy and the shaking of the APC, several Zerglings managed to make it through the window. Ivan, driven by fear and adrenaline, finally managed to load a fresh clip, and killed nearly all of the Zerglings with a succession of quick bursts.

All but one. That one rushed at Private Zachary Taylor, who was still struggling to reload his rifle. In a flash of claws and teeth, the monster disemboweled Zachary. He screamed and went into shock. Lena Kosovich fired a shot into the back of the Zergling's head, killing it. The soldiers wanted to tend to Zach, but the windows still weren't secure.

"Jet!" Ivan yelled. "Take care of Taylor!"

Jet Lincoln ran over and did what he could, which was essentially just comforting the private until the end. When Zach stopped shaking, he looked up at Ivan and blinked back tears. "He's dead, sir."

"Damn it!" Ivan vented his anger and pain on a Zergling, bringing it down with a trio of shots, just as it was jumping to the window.

Then they were out of the dust cloud, and there wasn't a Zergling in sight, only four APC's, each looking a little worse for wear.

Koslov stepped into the cargo area and saw Zachary's corpse. "Goddamn it!" he shouted.

* * *

**SECTION 2: THE JOURNAL OF PRIVATE FIRST CLASS IVAN PETROV**

Broke though enemy lines, reached D-C's 48 and 49 and Jim raynor's "desert rats".

Buried zach's body. He didn't deserve it, he was just a kid (I won't lie to you by saying I wish it were me, I'm glad to be among the living). Everyone's on edge, even scott. He shouldn't have died, it was our fault, poor fire discipline. The zerg are gonna pay, big time. Jet's pretty torn up about it, apparently they went through basic together.

Communications have been out since yesterday, something wrong with the Comsats. We've been using field radios, but the long range ones are pretty scarce, usually around one per company. That's limiting battlefield awareness, although we have plenty of line-of-sight radios, so we can still figure out bits and pieces, and where we need to be. Mostly.

Our new driver, Specialist Todd Arnold, is pretty good. He isn't Driver though…

We're getting' ready to attack what we think is a zerg base. We had to drive up a cliff, took a long time b/c the APC is messed up. Raynor sent ahead 10 scouts, only three came back, and one of them died on the spot. Said something about this weird, fleshy goo creepin across the ground. Freakin' gross. They spotted five swarms of the little zergs, and a huge thing. They couldn't describe it, only that they think it's what the goo is coming from. We've got the aforementioned companies (48th, 49th, raynor's), plus two mixed units. One is the reformed D-C 46 (that's me), which has remnants from the 43rd and 41st, and the other is the reformed 45th, which was reinforced by the 44th. They got ambushed in the desert like we did, lots of fights like that, all across Mar Sara.

Hang on a second.

Okay, we've got a go ahead. The 46th and the Desert Rats are leading the assault. Til next time.

Peace

Ivan.

* * *

**SECTION 3: THE CREEP**

Ivan looked out the bloody hole where window used to be. The weather had taken a turn for the worse, meaning heavy winds and high heat. The squad of hoverbikes was having trouble keeping a V formation. The wind kept blowing them towards the APC, and the hoverbike riders had to struggle to stop a collision.

"ETA?" Koslov called.

"Three minutes!" shouted Todd Arnold.

"Check your weapons!"

Everyone checked their weapons again. For the greens, this would be their first base assault. Even the veterans looked a little worried. They'd stormed the bases of small, disorganised bands of rebels and militias, but never from an army of monsters that seemed unlimited in their numbers.

"I see it!" shouted the driver. Everyone craned their necks to focus on it.

Ivan could almost make it out, when his head snapped forward. "What the hell, why'd you stop!" Ivan shouted.

"I didn't. That weird crap on the ground stopped us."

Koslov laughed bitterly. "Huh, looks like we're hoofin' it, Colonials. Open the hatch, Todd."

The driver complied and got on the radio. "This is Specialist Arnold, all drivers be advised, that creepy stuff on the ground cannot be driven on. I'm not sure if we could walk on it, either…"

The entire squad had stopped at the ramp, looked at the grey goo. It churned, and it smelled disgusting.

Scott joked, "I hope Roadkill doesn't hurl again."

Koslov allowed a small smile, and said, "Lang, that was so funny that _you_ get to be the one that tries to walk on this stuff first."

Roadkill laughed.

"Shut up, bastard." He looked a little pale. After some goading, he took a tentative step off the ramp. The goo sucked his foot but held him up. "Whadya know!" He stepped off with the other foot. Scott walked around and slipped. It took him a second to get back up. "It's good! Takes a little getting used to, but it's like walking on a waterbed."

The rest of the squad stepped out onto the stuff. It was apparently covered by a strong, thin membrane. It was slippery. Ivan was actually having some fun, skating around, reminiscing about ice hockey back at his birthplace, the Hiberstag Colony.

"Oh, hell…" Roadkill said, looking past the APC.

"What, you gonna puke?"

"No, look." He pointed, and a wave of goo was coming.

"Oh, hell…" Ivan muttered, and braced himself. The wave lifted him up, and made him crash back down. He managed to keep most of his balance, and fell to one knee. Most of the Hiberstag natives fared just as well, but everyone else fell flat on their backs. Ivan helped up Roadkill. He then looked at the wave. It reached the end of the goo… and kept going for a few meters. The goo surrounded a dead tree. With a great creaking noise, the tree shuddered… and then fell to the earth and was slowly swallowed up through the membrane.

"Damn! Koslov! This stuff is acidic or something. I think the APC's in trouble!"

"Todd! Specialist Arnold!" Koslov yelled over the radio.

"Yeah?"

"Put your tank in full reverse, pronto! This stuff could hurt it, we just saw it eat through a tree!"

"Damn! I'm going!"

The APC shuddered to life and started backing up. It went slowly, but steadily.

"Arnold, close up your hatch, and find a way back to the main force!"

"On my way, sir!"

"Lt. Hacker, come in! What are your orders!"

"Hang on…" Hacker got off the line for a minute. "Keep advancing. We'll join you in a second!"

"Squad, move it!"

The hoverbike squad came roaring into sight. The hoverbikes circled them, and the sergeant rode up.

"You boys need a lift?"

"Sure do, sir." Koslov said. He hopped onto the bitch seat of the bike. The other bikes swooped in and picked up the other soldiers.

* * *

**SECTION 4: STRIKING BACK**

"Alright, soldiers." Koslov yelled over the squad radio channel. "We're gonna open this can of worms. The main force will back us up within five minutes of contact. So don't do nothing stupid, just sit tight, cover each other, and take out targets of opportunity."

Ivan's hoverbike roared up a big hill of the crap, as the squad had taken to calling it, and a big _thing_ came into sight. It was big and orange, like the Zerglings, and its base was surrounded by green, radioactive-looking sludge. It had many pores and one big opening, and the crap was creeping out of each of them. Every few seconds it tightened and released, and a wave of the creep rippled away from it. Around it were several swarms of Zerglings. Ivan estimated that there were around five hundred Zerglings per swarm.

"Soldier," called back the pilot of the hoverbike. "Be a gunner. We're gonna roll right through a swarm of these bastards. Ready?"

"Sir, yes, sir!"

"Let's go!" The hoverbikes reached the crown of the hill and roared over it. They went high into the and fell towards the earth. Ivan felt his stomach drop out. They were nosediving right into a swarm of the bastards. "Fire, fire, fire!" shouted the pilot. Ivan switched to full auto and started firing at the Zerg, spraying many. The pilot aimed right towards a cluster of Zerg, and thumbed the small, red button on his throttle. A grenade hurtled toward the tight pack, and blew them away in an explosion of blood and chitin. The fragments of chitin killed other Zerglings. As the hoverbike leveled out, Ivan saw that the swarm was decimated.

"Alright, good job. I remember saying something about not doing anything stupid," the sergeant drawled over the radio, "But, hey, we rocked 'em. Let's do it again."

"Sir, yes, sir!"

Soon after that, the main force backed them up, trudged through the Creep for a mile. The remaining Zerglings were defeated, bringing an end to the first decisive Colonial victory. They used the main cannons on the APC's to blow up the giant Creep thing, and the day's work was done for Squad DC46-Delta-3.

* * *

**SECTION 5: IVAN PETROV'S JOURNAL; OUTSIDE THE CANYON**

Spirits are up today, because of yesterday's ass kicking and name taking. If felt good, not being on the run. I hope the trend continues. We reached wasteland base bravo, and rescued a bunch of personnel and civies. We were reinforced by two battalions of marines, and six companies of firebats. Largest amount of soldiers I seen in one place at one time. We also rescued two salvage and construction crews. They attached new guns to the APC in less than an hour.

We would have given Zach Taylor a proper wake, but duty called. Apparently, we got a transmission from some factory, in the east, on the other side of this damn canyon.

There was a big firefight an hour ago, at least ten Zerg swarms ambushed us, but it wasn't that hard to put 'em down. It's a good thing they have to get up close to kill us, we can mess 'em up from long distance. Them Zerglings would be easy prey, if there weren't so damn many of 'em.

We're currently descending into the canyon. Most of the squad is inside the APC, but Tanner, Mikhail and Roadkill are on the roof, along with squad DC46-Delta-4.

Hang on, we're entering a dead forest. I hear something.

war

* * *

**SECTION 6: NEW ZERG/THE CANYON**

Roadkill sat near the turret of the APC, trying to hide from the sun. He looked to the front of the APC. There was a dead forest. The APC entered it, crushing a path for the rest of the company to follow. A few minutes later, they were deep in the forest. Roadkill couldn't see _crap_, because of the wide trunks and numerous branches, and the sweat pouring down his face, stinging his eyes. He heard a noise, like a man hocking a giant loogie, coming from the left of the APC. He turned around to look, sluggish from heat exhaustion. There was silence for a while, and Roadkill wondered if he was delirious. Then, he heard a spitting sound, and the head of the man next to him exploded.

"…The hell?" was all he could say, until he heard more spitting, and people around him started dropping, chunks of flesh taken out of them. Roadkill flung himself flat on his back, trying to hide behind his fallen comrades.

Corporal Tanner yelled at him. "Roadkill, fire your weapon before I shoot you myself!" Tanner himself switched to full auto and started spraying into the forest. The APC's machineguns also opened fire, their recoil shaking Roadkill.

Roadkill rolled onto his stomach, and propped his rifle on a body. He couldn't see anything, so he aimed for the noises of his enemy: hocking, spitting, and deep, unearthly growls. He heard a spit and saw a jet of green. He aimed right for its source and fired. He was pretty sure he hit it.

He took this opportunity to look around. The jet of green had splashed into the body he was using for cover. It took a large chunk out of it. Roadkill saw something like a nail or spine sticking out of the wound. The green stuff was eating away, through flesh, bone, and steel. Roadkill realised it was acid, and that there was a lot of it on the roof, eating its way through.

"Oh, damn." Roadkill saw that, of the eighteen men who were originally on the roof, six were still fighting, and ten were dead for sure. Roadkill grabbed one of the possibly-alive casualties, and dragged him to the roof hatch, which Malakhov was now occupying, firing away. Roadkill dropped as he saw a volley of spines come his way. They clanged off of the armor of the APC, but the acid stuck and started eating away at the hull. "Malakhov!"

"Keep your head down, Private!"

"Malakhov, take him!" He pushed the casualty towards the hatch. Malakhov dropped the SAW and grabbed the casualty, easing him down the hatch. "Tell the Sarge that these bastards are spitting acid, and its eating through the armor!" Malakhov disappeared, and Roadkill heard shouting going on inside. Seconds later, Sergei Gionta, expert sniper, poked his head out the hatch. He grabbed Malakhov's machinegun and dropped it down the hatch.

"How is it going, Private?" He pulled out his sniper rifle, and popped the lid off of it's scope.

"Not bad. You?" More spines came in and Roadkill put a hand on his helmet, to keep it from falling off, and was immediately sorry for it. A burning sensation shot through his hand, and he quickly ditched his helmet and wiped the hand on a corpse. He watched his helmet melt and turn to slag, imagining how close his head had been to going with it.

"I'm just fine. Another day in the Colonial Infantry." Sergei put his eye to the rifle's scope, and started tracking back and forth.

"You can say that again." Roadkill returned fire against a volley of spines, and reloaded.

"Another day in the Colonial Infantry. 280 Degrees, 80 feet!" The main cannon of the APC swiveled around and fired. Roadkill looked and saw an explosion of wood, carapace, flesh, and blood. "264 Degrees, 50 feet!" The cannon twitched and fired again. Another explosion, and a piece of wood hit Roadkill in the head.

When he came to, he heard almost no spitting or gunfire. He saw that the debris from the explosion was still settling, so he must only have been unconscious for a few seconds. "How long was I out?"

"You were out?" Tanner asked. Roadkill jumped, and Tanner started laughing.

"No targets visible. Hang on." Gionta said, and pulled himself onto the roof. He scoped the area that was hidden by the turret. "No targets. All clear." Sergei cleaned the scope of his rifle and pressed the lid over it. He helped Mikhail up and slung his rifle. Two members of Squad 4 stood up. They were the only survivors.

Koslov looked out the hatch. "Tanner, Roadkill, Gionta, Zhukov, get off the roof. You Squad 4 guys, too." He peered into the darkness of the APC. "Petrov, Langenbrunner, Kosovich, Malakhov, get on the roof."

Ivan was shocked at what he saw. Fourteen bodies. Fourteen soldiers killed in less than five minutes. It had been a long time since he had seen casualties like this. "Lang, help me straighten the bodies. And watch out for the green stuff."

Down below, Koslov got on the radio. "Status check, DC-46-Delta-3, anyone out there?"

"Sergeant Koslov, this is Akita. What the hell is going on?"

"We were ambushed, sir, by some new aliens. These guys have a long range attack. It can eat through armor, sir."

"What do these bastards look like?"

"Um, hang on." Koslov handed a headset to Sergei.

"This is Corporal Sergei Gionta, sir. He is our sniper, and got the best look at these things."

"Go ahead."

"Well, sir…" Gionta cleared his throat. "They have faces like human skulls, except that the jaws are split in half. They have a big ridge on top of there head, and it flexes when they spit. They move on a fleshy, snakelike body. They have two arms, which end in blades. They spit spines and acid. When they fire, you can see a jet of green shooting form their mouth to their target. Within minutes, about twenty of these things killed at least forty soldiers."

There was a long pause. "Thank you, Corporal. Stay strong, and hand me back to Sergeant Koslov."

"Yes, sir."

Up above, Ivan was busy collecting dog tags. The skin was searing off his hands, but he clamped down on the pain. The dead soldiers deserved to have their families notified, at least. Ivan would take a little pain to provide them with that service.

"Petrov, what do we do with the bodies?" Malakhov asked him.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, under this hot sun and anything, they're gonna rot pretty quick. And we don't have time to bury them."

Ivan thought for a moment. "We burn 'em. Ask Koslov for permission, and try to find out what our orders are."

"Sure thing." Malakhov jumped down the hatch. While he was gone, Ivan lined up the bodies, with the help of Scott and Lena. A minute later, Malakhov climbed back up, looking disgruntled.

"What is it?"

"We can't burn the bodies, we have to move."

"So what do we do with 'em?"

Malakhov answered by kicking a corpse off the roof.

"That's harsh." Ivan sighed. "Orders are orders." They quickly removed all the bodies, and watched them get crushed under the giant wheels of the APC behind them. "So, what are our orders, anyways?"

"The rest of the companies are moving to get to the factory. Our company is splitting into patrols and making sure the canyon is secure."

"Great."

Over the next few hours, the squad had nothing to do but watch the sunset and the column of APCs, heading towards the pass that would take them to the factory. Everyone was fidgety, especially those on the roof. They all imagined the way a spine would feel, tearing through muscle and viscera, shattering bone, the acid eating away at flesh. Even Koslov looked tense. Nothing happened until after night had fallen.

Ivan heard a hocking noise, yelled "Incoming!", and everyone scrambled into action. The soldiers on top of the APC threw themselves down, and aimed down their sights towards the direction of the noise. Ivan was tense, and he tightened his grip on the rifle. He heard the spitting noises and grimaced. He opened fire. His muzzle flash and tracers blinded him, but he kept firing, along with the rest of his fireteam. Seconds later, the spitting and gunfire stopped. Ivan was relieved.

"Anyone hit?" he shouted. Everyone said they were fine. The hatch popped open, and Private White's head poked out.

"Get down here, quick!"

Everyone jumped down the hatch, and saw the rest of the squad circled around a radio. He heard gunfire and explosions.

"What's going on?"

Colin filled him in. "The Zerg apparently took the factory and fortified their positions around it. Scouts reported around ten Zergling swarms, and two Hydralisk. Also, the ground is covered in Creep for miles. It's limiting mobility."

"Are we gonna help them?" He distinctly heard the noise of claws on metal, and screaming.

"No. Our soldiers are breaking through. They're hurting, though."

A silence settled over the squad. They listened for news of the battle.

They heard some chatter. "There it is! There's the factory!" "What the hell did they do to it?"

Jim Raynor's voice came in. "I don't know, but whatever it is, it ain't natural. Burn it, boys."

They heard some enormous explosions, and they saw the north sky light up. A second later, a shockwave rumbled through. Another fireball appeared in the sky, this one from space, not the ground.

"What the hell is that!" Roadkill asked.

"It is… the command ship of General Duke, Norad II." Todd answered him.

"What the hell is it doing on a planet like Mar Sara!"

"What's going on!"

The squad descended into chaos, until Koslov got their attention by shouting "Shut the hell up, scheisse-koffs!"

They listened to the radio. General Duke told Raynor to stand down, and told him he was under arrest. Raynor shouted at him, and Duke cut him off.

"DC46-Delta, do you read?" Cpt. Akita's voice came through.

"Yes, sir." Lt. Hacker's voice replied.

"Stand down, and lay low. We're trying to avoid being arrested."

"Yes, sir. You boys hear that?" Three voices answered in the affirmative. "Turn off all your engines and lights, and sleep in shifts. If the Zerg come, fight or run. If it's Duke's forces, surrender."

"Understood."

Ivan slept fitfully throughout the night. He was given the last shift. As he watched the sun rise, he heard the radio crackle. He jumped down the hatch and picked up the receiver.

"Sgt. Koslov?" Lt. Hacker asked over the radio.

"He's asleep. Would you like me to get him?"

"Yes, Private. And get ready to mobilise."

"Okay, hang on." He looked at the squad. They were still asleep. Ivan decided to be an asshole. He started slamming the butt of his rifle against the hull, and yelled "Rise and shine! Time to wake up, friends!"

The squad jerked awake and started hurling insults at him. He handed the receiver to a scowling Sergeant Koslov.

"Yeah?" Koslov grunted. "I mean, yes, sir?"

"We are evacuating offworld. Get to Evacuation Point Delta, _yesterday_. Understood?"

"Yes, sir!" He put down the receiver. "You heard the man, Todd, get this pig moving!"

The APC rumbled to life, and ground a path through the forest, heading north. As it reached the scorched land of last nights battle, pocked with blast craters and funeral pyres, it was joined by a dozen other APCs.

Within a day, some of them would make it offworld.

**So, how was that? Review it, please. The button's right over _there_. Press it. Go ahead. You don't even need to sign in.**

**Laters.**


	3. Desperate Alliance

**CHAPTER III: DESPERATE ALLIANCE**

**SECTION 0: NOTES FROM CHC BRIEFING ON VARIOUS ZERG STRAINS**

Admiral Sheldon/ Intro: Sit down, everyone. Okay, I'd like to impress upon you how much of a threat these Zerg represent. They seem to come in infinite numbers, and most of 'em are strong, fast, and armoured.

Admiral Sheldon/ Zerglings: Zerglings seem to be their most basic breed. They generally come in swarms of five hundred or more. They're fast, got nasty claws, and have a thick layer of armor. However, they have no long range weapon, and tend to go down in droves under massed-fire tactics. For a long time, we thought they were the only breed of Zerg, because they were the only ones we could capture for the Jacobs Installation. More bad news about the Zergling: They're evolving. Fast. We found a new breed of Zergling on Mar Sara. They had thicker armor, heightened senses, and a pair of scythe blades growing out of its shoulders, and they move faster than ever.

Admiral Sheldon/ Hydralisks: Early on, our main advantage was that we could fight at range, and they could not. However, that advantage has been nullified by the discovery of the Hydralisk. These bastards are tough, and evolving just as fast as the Zerglings. They can hock a cocktail of crystalline spines and acid strong enough to melt through tank armor, at super-sonic speeds, with a range comparable to our C-14's. They also have a pair of bladed scythes, which can tear through armor like butter. The generally come in swarms of around two hundred.

Admiral Sheldon/ Mutalisks: Mutalisks are another, freshly discovered breed. They were dubbed 'Mutalisks' because the pilot who spotted them observed them forming cocoons and morphing into other forms. A swarm of these bastards contains about a hundred Mutalisks. All of the forms of Mutalisk are very dangerous. The first form is very fast and has a ranged attack, much like a deadlier version of the Hydralisk spray. The second form, labeled the 'guardian' is slower and less versatile, but is heavily armored, and powerful enough to take out a company of marines in minutes. The last form does not have a long-range attack, but is incredibly fast and possesses razor-sharp claws, and is large and strong enough to lift an Arclite siege tank. We're calling it the 'mantis screamer', because of its huge claws and the deafening sound it makes.

Admiral Sheldon/ Hypothesised breeds: There are several breeds that have been rumored to exist, but we haven't seen them in action, yet. One is the 'Queen'. This is supposed to be a giant bitch, that watches over the main hive and quite possibly lays the eggs of the Zerg. Next is a weird little animal called the 'scourge', which kamikazes into its target, and explodes like a barrel of quinitricetyline. Then there is a land warrior said to be more powerful and faster than any of the other Zerg breeds. Since it is supposed to be the ultimate warrior breed, we've dubbed it, should it exist, the 'Ultralisk'. The final postulated breed is the 'defiler', which is said to spread a plague more deadly and virulent than even Chau Sarian Hemorrhagic Fever. Although, I guess we don't have to worry about THAT little bug anymore. Anyway, we're hoping this is a fictional strain, made up by some ground-pounder to scare the greens. That's about it. Thank you for your time.

Quinitricetyline was an incredibly explosive substance in Alien3 (a great movie, by the way). As one of the inmates put it: "I saw a barrel of this stuff fall into a beachhead bunker once. The blast put a tug in dry dock for sixteen weeks. Great stuff!" Heh heh heh. C'mon, don't you know the sound of laughter?

**SECTION 1: EVAC POINT DELTA / BEFORE THE ASSAULT**

Ivan stood in the middle of the street in a Mar Sara town. It was under attack by monsters, terrible creatures with giant, bladed arms and gnashing teeth. He didn't have a rifle or sidearm. He was only able to watch as the monsters ripped apart colonists and his comrades. When the enemy noticed him, he tried to run, but his legs barely worked. A Zergling overtook him, and wrapped its rough tongue around his leg, dragging him back. The tongue felt like it was squeezing his leg muscles to paste, crushing his bones. He heard someone calling.

"Ivan! Wake the hell up!" Koslov barked at him.

Ivan shook awake and muttered curses, sleepily. He rubbed his aching leg. "We there yet?"

"Yeah. Most of us slept through the briefing. We've been assigned to the earthworks to the northeast of the base." Roadkill informed him. "The comsats started working again, and they picked up a huge Zerg force to the northeast. "

"Great." Ivan slowly stood, his joints cracking. He grabbed his gear, and let Roadkill lead him out of the APC. Outside, it was foggy, which struck Ivan as odd. "Hey, Private, why is it foggy out in the desert?"

"We think it's coming from that Zerg crap, the Creep. It's giving off a lot of moisture, even the ground's a little wet. Here's our foxhole." He stopped by a five-foot deep hole in the ground, where Sergei and Scott were already crouched.

"Nice of you to join us, Privates." Sergei said sardonically.

"Sorry, sir. I was having a great dream about Lang's mother." Ivan joked.

"My mother was a saint!" Scott shouted. Roadkill and Ivan jumped into the hole.

"So, Confed High Command has finally decided to get us off this rock?" Ivan started checking his rifle.

"No, CHC ain't doing nothing." Scott said.

"What? What are we doing here, then?"

"Someone else is providing the dropships."

"Yeah? Who?"

"You remember the Sons of Korhal?" Scott asked, grimly.

"Those psychopaths? You've got to be kidding!" Ivan shook his head in disbelief.

"Nope."

"Last time we saw them," Ivan said, "We were exchanging gunfire, on Dylar XIV."

"Yeah. Good times."

Private Colin White yelled "Zerg incoming! Northeast!" from another foxhole.

The fireteam got ready to fend off the attack. At first they saw nothing but fog.

"There they are!" Sergei yelled, and fired a shot.

Ivan looked through his iron sights, waiting for a target to present itself. He started firing as a wall of Zerglings materialised out of the mist. Ivan heard and felt several deep thumping noises.

"Arty strike! Get down!" a soldier shouted. Everyone crouched in the foxhole. Soon, they heard the whistle of mortar rounds dropping, and the ground shook as the rounds exploded. Ivan guessed that a salvo of at least ten rounds had been shot. After the ground stopped shaking, Ivan peered over the foxhole wall.

"Holy crap!" The mortar strike had decimated the enemy swarm. "Ain't nothing left," Scott yelled. Some cheering broke out in nearby trenches.

Colin shouted "Six hours until dropship arrival!"

**SECTION 2 – JOURNAL OF IVAN PETROV / WAITING ON THE EDGE OF A STORM**

I just saw an artillery strike decimate a Zerg swarm. What a sight! We're positioned in the South side earthworks across the river from the Evac base. About ten meters behind us is the bridge we'll displace across if the enemy comes in force. Across the bridge is the bunkers. Past them is the city wall complex (a huge maze of metal halls and hardpoints), then Mar Sara City itself. I'll write more later.

We have been sitting in this goddamn foxhole for the past five hours. I'M FICKING BORED! There's nothing to do but impress Roadkill with Guild War stories. I think he looks up to me, like a big brother or something. (What a change, out of my eleven siblings, I was the youngest!)

I should be used to this by now, after spending a year at goddamn Desert Outpost 46.

Sure, every once in a while the Zerg strike, but those Arty boys keep blowing 'em all up. I shouldn't be complaining.

Hang on, Sarge is saying something to Gionta.

Apparently, my prayers have been answered. The comsats have spotted around 40 Zergling swarms, fifteen Hydralisk swarms, and ten swarms of those new Mutalisks. This is against twenty infantry companies, four artillery companies, six ranger companies, and four Surface to Air Missile batteries. I think we're in a little over our heads.

We're waiting on the edge of a storm. Roadkill looks like he's gonna hurl. Me, Sergei, and Scott, we've gotten pretty quiet. We're thinking the same thing though: Maybe it's time for us old-timers to be retired, the Confederate way.

The grounds starting to rumble.

I hope I can write in you again, my good journal. If not, thanks for listening to my years of ranting. Peace.

**SECTION 3 – HOLDING THE LINE**

"Soldiers! Lock and load!" The disembodied voice of Koslov floated into the foxhole. Ivan wiped his sweating hands on his shirt, wiped his eyes with his forearm. The sun had been beating down on them for hours. "When you hear hocking, get your head down, but don't quit firing, for Chrissake."

Ivan heard the noises of fifty rifles cocking. That was all that was left of a company of two hundred.

Sergei peered through his scope and muttered "Enemy."

Ivan looked through his binoculars, and his mouth went dry. Zerg as fire as he could see, a massive wave, heading straight for him. Ivan was suddenly covered in shade. He looked skyward and was stunned. There were enough Zerg fliers to blot out the sun, and then some.

Ivan shook his head, resigned. He steadied his rifle on the lip of the foxhole, and looked down the sight. "So, out of curiosity, are we covered by Anti-Air weapons at all?"

"Doubtful. There's four SAM batteries back at base, but I doubt they cover us."

"Typical. Roadkill, lock and load!"

"Yes, sir!" Roadkill worked the bolt on his rifle, and propped it on the lip of the foxhole.

"You ready, boys and girls?" Sergei asked.

"Yes, sir!" the fireteam responded.

"There they are!" Scott shouted, and opened fire. The rest of the company followed suit.

The Zerg fell in droves, creating a river of alien blood, and a field of carcasses, but, there were always more.

And they kept advancing.

"Oh, hell, here come the Hydralisks!"

Ivan gritted his teeth and pressed his body into the dirt wall of the foxhole, trying to stay as hidden as possible. Acid splashed everywhere, and he heard the screams of his comrades. He peeked over the foxhole wall, and lined up his rifle with the head of a Hydralisk. It noticed him just as he pulled the trigger, and sent a tracer through its gaping mouth.

"Colin, where the hell is our artillery?" he shouted.

"Hang on!" There was a pause, and Ivan fired a few bursts into the Zerg ranks.

"Colin!"

"Firing now!"

Ivan heard the thumping and yelled "Incoming!" He huddled in the foxhole with the rest of his fireteam. After the ground stopped shaking, he looked over the foxhole. There wasn't a Zerg in sight.

"The hell? Did we win?" Roadkill asked.

"How should I know?" The back of his neck prickled. Something felt wrong.

**SECTION 4 – OVERRUN**

"Incoming!" someone shouted, five minutes later.

Ivan looked skyward. "Those Mutalisks are back! Strafing run!"

Everyone got down and prayed. The lead Mutalisk hissed and launched a projectile. Ivan watched it hurtle to the ground, and strike an APC. The APC exploded. A soldier staggered out of the wreckage, but he was covered in acid. Flesh sluiced from his bone. Roadkill's jaw dropped, and he could only stand and watch until Scott and Sergei pulled him down.

"What are you doing, idiot?"

Ivan heard hissing noises and explosions all around him. He prayed his foxhole wouldn't be hit. He heard screaming, coming from all across the defensive line. A Mutalisk strafed nearby. Ivan lined up a shot and fired. It shuddered, blood spurting from the wound, and fell to the earth. Other soldiers started following his example.

"Return fire, soldiers! Take those bastards down!"

Ivan was lining up another shot, when something jumped into the foxhole behind him. Ivan swung around, ready to fire, when he realised it was the Sergeant and Malakhov.

"What the hell are you doing?" Ivan shouted. He turned back to the enemy.

"Our hole got hit!" Koslov shouted, as he opened fire. "Mikhail and Jet bought it!"

"Goddamn it!" shouted Sergei, as he expertly brought down a Mutalisk. Everyone flinched as an APC near them exploded. "Shit, that was our APC! Todd was still in there!"

The Mutalisks flew past the defensive line, towards the base. The squad stood, relieved to be alive.

"I hope those SAM sites can take out the Mutalisks," commented Scott.

"Yeah…" Ivan said.

"I can't believe one arty strike took out all those Zerg." Roadkill said.

"I don't believe. I'm sure that…" Ivan broke off. "Sergei, scope that hill."

Sergei looked through his scope. "Nothing. Wait… Shit, Zerg, coming in fast!"

Someone screamed "They're everywhere!"

Colin shouted from the neighboring foxhole: "Sarge, we have orders to cover the company's retreat!"

"Alright. Squad, give 'em hell!"

Zerglings and Hydralisks poured out of holes in the ground, having burrowed them minutes before. Ivan stared at the ravenous horde. He sprayed rounds at them, not bothering to aim. After all, what was the point of aiming when you couldn't possibly miss? He went through five clips this way, bring down countless Zerglings. However, they still kept coming, and he was running out of ammo. When the front lines of the Zerg were fifty meters away, Ivan started to get nervous. "Hasn't the goddamn company retreated yet!"

"Sarge, we need to fall back!" Sergei shouted.

"Right. Squad, follow me!" Koslov pushed himself out of the hole, and everyone followed him. Ivan had to drag Roadkill out. "Across the bridge! Move it!" Ivan followed his voice.

Corporal Tanner peered out of his foxhole at them. "What the hell is going on!"

"We're getting the hell out of here!" Koslov shouted back. Tanner and his fireteam scrabbled out of the hole. Ivan paused to help Lena out. As he did so, he took a glance back, and was sorry he did so.

The Zerglings had reached their front lines. Many soldiers had already fallen back, but some had stayed to cover their comrades retreat. Zerglings dove into trenches, and ripped apart the soldiers in a flurry of fangs and claws. Zerglings fought each other over who would eat the remains, and a feeding frenzy began. Ivan turned away and started running. His squadmates were fifty meters across the bridge, and he and Lena hadn't even reached it yet.

"Go, go, go!" Ivan shouted. He grabbed Lena shoulder, and she ran with him. They sprinted, jumping over fallen comrades and rubble, almost feeling the blades of the Zerglings, and the spines of the Hydralisks. They sprinted so long that their legs and breath felt like they were on fire. Almost halfway across the bridge, Ivan felt his knee buckle, and he fell.

"Come on, Ivan, they're coming!" Lena shouted as she picked him up. He glanced back and saw that the Zerglings had reached the bridge. And they were so much faster. Ivan staggered away, as best he could. Lena dragged him along. Ivan pointed his rifle back and started firing. He grinned when he heard alien screams. "We're almost there, Ivan! Look!"

Fifty meters… Cold sweat rolled Ivan's back.

Forty meters… His legs felt like they were going to give up the ghost.

Thirty meters… He was panting, struggling to not just stop and let the Zerglings have him.

Twenty meters… He could feel the breath of the Zerglings on his back.

Ten meters… _Is something clawing my leg!_

Safety.

Lena and Ivan dove over the sandbag barrier and out of the sights of his comrades. They opened fire, massacring Zerglings from the safety of the bunkers. Ivan laughed in relief, watching the deaths of the Zerglings. Then, the Mutalisks came, and dive-bombed it. The metal shell of the bunker cracked, and acid seeped into the gunnery wells. Ivan heard screaming. He caught sight of his fireteam, and got their attention.

"Ivan, where were you!" Sergei yelled.

Ivan ignored the question. "We have to help those guys out!"

He ran to the bunker, and stepped into one of the gunnery wells. It took him a second to adjust to the darkness. He felt around, and found a corpse. "Damn it." He snatched the body's dog-tag, and moved on.

"What is it, Petrov?" The fireteam had caught up by then. "Did you find anyone?"

"Not yet, comrade." He heard a cough and went deeper into the bunker. He quickly found its source. "I've got a live one!" He picked up the man, and pulled him out of the bunker. "Here!" He handed the man to his squadmates, and climbed out. Sergei carried the fallen soldier on his back. "I think everyone else is dead." Ivan said, disheartened by the meaningless deaths of his fellow soldiers.

"Damn it."

Nearby, someone yelled "Zerglings!"

Ivan looked to the bridge, and saw that Zerglings had nearly crossed its expanse.

Koslov and the rest of the squad rejoined them. "Move, we have to fall back!" Koslov pushed them towards the city walls, and they started running. Ivan was already sore from the 200 meter sprint across the bridge. He hoped he could make the four hundred meters to the city walls. "If we make it to the walls, we will survive! Go, go, go!" Koslov encouraged them. He pushed Ivan forward, and Ivan held onto Lena's arm, helping her as she ran, dragging her when she fell. They ran across four hundred yards of broken landscape, jumping or vaulting over piles of rubble, scrabbling through blast craters, and ducking as mortar shells exploded nearby them.

Just fifty meters away from the city walls, one shell detonated too close. Roadkill screamed and fell. Ivan let go of Lena and grabbed Roadkill. Ivan quickly hefted the younger man's weight, and slung him over his shoulders. "Let's go, comrades!" The quickly traversed the remaining distance. Once they reached the looming, steel city walls, they realised that the hatchway that would allow them to enter was closed. The entire squad started hammering on it, yelling expletives and demands for the enormous vault-style door to open.

Ivan looked back. "Uh, guys?"

"What the hell is it, Petrov?" Corporal Taylor yelled at him.

Ivan merely pointed. There was a pack of around thirty Zerglings, looking at them. They slowly advanced, then stopped ten paces from them. The squad quickly wheeled around, and trained their weapons on them. A long silence fell between the two sides. The squad knew that the Zerglings would overtake them before they could all be put down. And the Zerglings knew that the humans could kill many of them before they could hurt the Terrans.

The Zerglings, however, didn't care. The lead Zergling barked, and Sergei decapitated it. The Zerglings rushed, and the Terrans opened fire. Ivan screamed, in rage and fear. One Zergling jumped, and landed directly in front of him. It pulled its claw back, and got ready to strike, but Ivan shoved the muzzle of his rifle into the Zergling's mouth, and held the trigger down.

The skirmish was over, but they all heard the sounds of more of the aliens coming.

Koslov caught sight of a private on top of the wall and got his attention. "Private, I am a Sergeant of the Colonial Infantry. I order you to open this door, immediately!"

Upon hearing the word 'sergeant', the private snapped to attention. "Yes, sir!" The private jumped down a roof access hatch, and was unseen for a few seconds. Then, the door slowly ground open. The squad stepped inside the city wall and moved to close it again.

Gionta looked through the hatch and yelled, "Hurry it up!" The squad pushed at the heavy door. "C'mon, c'mon!" Just as the pushed it into place, there was a huge impact, and the door jerked back. Ivan's muscles strained as he pushed. Eventually, they got it flush with the hatchway, and spun the lock shut. Everyone did the exact same thing at once: They spun around, leaned against the hatchway, slid down, and breathed a sigh of relief. They all laughed a little.

Another private poked his head out of the roof access hatch. "Rob, you need to see this." The private who opened the door got up with a groan and clambered up the ladder. There was a few moments of silence. Ivan took the time to check on Roadkill. Koslov asked was wrong with him.

"A shell landed near him. He isn't hurt bad, though. Some strafing on his back and stomach, but there was only light penetration in his arm and leg. Didn't even tear off muscle, break bone, or hit any arteries. You hear that, Roadie? You're gonna be fine."

Roadkill nodded and slowly straightened up. "Where's my rifle?"

Scott pointed at the door. "Out there. You want to go get it?"

"After you!"

They heard screams coming from the rooftop, and the two privates fell through the hatchway. The nameless private was minus an arm.

"Rob, what the hell is going on?" Koslov shouted.

"Hydralisks are melting through the goddamn door. They're gonna be through in a minute." He ran to a nearby barracks. "Hey, guys, get ready, we're gonna be crawling with Zerg in a minute!" Ten soldiers ran out of the barracks. Both squads took cover behind a makeshift barrier, made of supply crates and barbed wire.

"They're almost through…"

Ivan aimed at the door through his iron sights, and waited. Finally, a Hydralisk spine penetrated what was left of the door, and Zerglings crashed through, three wide. The soldiers opened fire, and mowed down Zerglings. The Hydralisks fired back, and five soldiers were either dismembered or decapitated.

"Goddamn it, they're gonna break through!" Ivan's rifle clicked empty. As he was slapping in a fresh clip, a Zergling leapt over the barricade, and crashed into Ivan. Survival instincts kicked in, and he grabbed both of the Zergling's claws. They were razor sharp, and tore up his hands. Ivan snarled, and struggled with the thing for a few seconds. He was able to pin down one of its claws with his leg, and used his boot to force the monster's head down. It swiped with its other arm, and slashed his pectoral muscle. Gasping with pain, he took hold of the free claw with his left hand, and pulled his sidearm out with his right. He put the barrel against the thing's head, and fired until the magazine was empty.

Sergei picked him up, and gave him his rifle. "Let's go, Petrov, we're leaving!" He shouted over the screams, both human and alien, and the gunfire. "Fall back! Fall back!"

The soldiers that could get away, did. Those that didn't hear the order, or were fighting Zerglings hand-to-hand, fought until they died. Of the nineteen soldiers who defended the barricade, ten made it out. The pounded down a metal corridor, their hammering footsteps punctuated by gunfire and alien hisses. All around them, Terran soldiers were falling back, chased by Zerglings. They stumbled into a hardpoint and saw a familiar face.

"Holy crap, that's Captain Akita!"

They joined what was left of the company. Fourty soldiers, not even a platoon, waited in the hardpoint.

Koslov shouted over the din, "Sir, what are we waiting for!"

"We're waiting for the 39th and 50th Companies, and then we're gonna make a break for the landing fields!"

"What's the ETA of the dropships!"

"Ten minutes! It would be a five minute walk to the field, but the Zerg are encircling this hardpoint!"

"Enemy attack!"

Zerglings poured out of three of the hardpoint doors. The soldiers opened fire, and soon all that was left were new piles of Zergling carcasses. Ivan looked down and saw that they were literally ankle-deep in blood. Out of the same door Ivan came through, two platoons of soldiers came in. They were all that was left of the 39th and 50th.

"Alright, soldiers, move it, move it, move it!" Akita bellowed, and the soldiers raced past.

Ivan and the squad joined the rush, somewhere near the back of the three companies. Twelve minutes of running through hot, bloody corridors later, Ivan saw the sun again. The metal floor turned to blacktop, but it was no kinder on his throbbing shins. He peered over the rest of the soldiers, and saw one of the dropships. It was huge, and painted in the customary black, with blood-red stripes. Soldiers were already piling into it, but by the time he was close, the giant ramp started to close. The soldiers that made it saluted the soldiers who didn't.

About twenty soldiers were left behind. They sat or crouched, looking around. The city had been devastated, almost no building was left standing. The Zerg were advancing through it, killing as they went. Most of the colonists had made it out, and now only a few Colonials were still in the city, fighting because they could do nothing else. Captain Akita had chosen to stay behind. He hand commanded the soldiers to construct barricades. He would have had them dig trenches, but they had nothing that could dig through the meter-thick runway blacktop. After the barricades had been completed, the soldiers waited to make their stand. Ivan cleaned and bandaged his hands. No one was talking. They were all dead anyway, so what is there to talk about?

"Incoming!" The soldiers all grabbed their weapons, and steadied them on the barricades. No one was bothering to conserve their ammo, so they opened fire as soon as the enemy came into view. They mowed down a swarm of Zerglings, and the first wave was over.

"That was just a recon unit, the real attack is still coming!" Akita shouted.

"Sir, I'm getting something on the radio!" Colin shouted.

"What is it?"

"Sounds like… a dropship pilot! He says he has plenty of extra room and is coming in, ETA two minutes!"

"You hear that, soldiers! Hold this field for two minutes, and we can all go home!" Koslov shouted, and the soldiers cheered.

Zerglings burst out of the ground all around them. It was an intense fight, but the Colonials beat them back with only two losses.

A soldier shouted, "Take that you cocksucking bugs!" just before his head exploded.

"Scheisse!" Koslov shouted. "Hydralisks!" The soldiers crouched and returned fire.

"C'mon, take them out!" Akita yelled, firing round after round.

A number of soldiers shouted that they were out of ammo, then everything was drowned out by the intense scream of the engines of a hovering dropship. The dropship in question had a custom weapons system, which it was using against the attacking Hydralisks, with devastating effectiveness. Koslov had to bellow at the top of his lungs "Break cover and get in the dropship!" The dropship's ramp was open and hovering just a few feet above the ground. He ran with the rest of the soldiers, and got inside the metal womb of the dropship. One of the crewmembers hammered on a button, and the ramp closed.

Ivan dropped his rifle and collapsed on the floor. He was asleep in less than a minute.

Sorry it took so freaking long to update. For the first week, I was just being lazy. For the next two weeks, I was SICK as hell. After that, it just took a long time to hammer out a chapter that didn't suck. I hope you enjoyed the fruits of my labor. Please, tell me if you did or didn't, in the form of a review. Thank you for the many kind reviews (You know who you are, even if I don't).

Alright, till next time, space cowboy,

Peace!


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